For Every Action
by Aspeleine
Summary: ...there is an equal and opposite reaction. Every decision has consequences, as Sirius learns on Halloween, 1981.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from the Harry Potter series, with the exception of Erwin Dyer, and no money is being made from them. Author's Notes: Thanks to Cedar, my beta, and Proserpina, for the plot bunny and help with the fic overall.  
  
  
  
  
  
Godric's Hollow shook, trembling deep below the crust of the Earth, violently interrupting the dreams of slumbering witches and wizards. Nocturnal thoughts washed away with the jolt of wakefulness. Sweet dreams of peace that evaded reality fled, as did their ghastly counterparts of shimmering green skulls entwined with snakes, rising high above a lifeless houses.  
  
They rose, wands in outstretched hands, from warm beds, groggily evaluating the situation. "Was that an earthquake?" echoed anxious whispers. Sleep- dulled responses met these questions, none lucid enough to truly answer. "Mmm, no. An earth shake? Just a troll, which I'll be in the morning if you don't let me sleep..." "Oi! Wake up! Do we have them in the Isles?" No solutions were presented for bleary-eyed neighbors. Trees stood at inopportune sites for seeking the origin of the blast, obscuring the view of a world vaguely illuminated by the full moon. Not quite reassured, they returned to lie between rumpled sheets, awaiting the approaching return of the sun and a new day living in fear. One onlooker stayed at his unobstructed window, unable to move a body wracked by the cold, crippling hand of shock. Smoke rose ominously from desecrated ground, yet there was no Dark Mark in sight. Paraphernalia littered the area- half-burnt books, carelessly strewn photographs, and patterned flatware. A young couple's material possessions reduced to a smoldering collage. Words failed the man, and his legs began to give way. Unsteady legs hastily led the way towards a dimly burning fireplace, where the man regained his voice.  
  
"Albus Dumbledore!" *****  
  
The Headmaster sat quietly at his desk. Silver contraptions created the only audible disturbances in an otherwise still room. Yet his twinkling blue eyes were trained on a thick sheet of opalescent glass placed centrally among the other articles. An aching void consumed his Foe Glass, leaving Albus with the unfamiliar feeling of having no definite idea of what unseen events had unfolded. Anxiety ransacked his insides, leaving no region in peace. He was no closer to unraveling the mystery than he had been a quarter of an hour ago, when a glowing pair of blood red eyes had vanished from their eminent position within the Glass. A fixture for almost twenty years, they appeared not only when dangerously close in location, but at times of commanding a terrifying power. Several shadowy shapes flocked the newly formed void, but none approached the darkly chilling mist lingering within its depths. He waited. What would meet him after the silence? What truths evaded the omniscient Albus Dumbledore?  
  
He rubbed timeworn hands over a spider's web of lines, feeling new creases that arrived only weeks ago, in the wake on another hideous attack by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. The Bones family, of pure blood and high esteem, had seen its number reduced by two. Dumbledore gazed intently at the fire, willing it to bring an answer. Within seconds, a weary face appeared green and flame-licked below a stone mantel.  
  
"Al-Albus!" A man's voice shook with overwhelming fright.  
  
"Yes, Erwin?" he prompted the face in the flames, hurrying around his desk to be closer to the man, if not nearer to answers.  
  
"He- he's gone! I don't know, I was sleeping, and I heard screaming, terrible screaming! I didn't mean to fall asleep, I was wide awake, and then- I don't know what I did. And there was that horrible green flash we've all come to fear, but...Albus, I'm telling you something happened, Cor, it- it didn't go through? There was an explosion, no, not the typical Death Eater theatrics, it's still echoing, softly, but it was a fifteen minutes ago! I really don't know, Albus, I think he's..." Erwin's frantic ramblings quieted to absorb the news he had just delivered. His face contorted in mystification and wonder hushed his voice. "Gone?"  
  
Dumbledore seized his cloak, mind grappling with the manic discord of too many questions.  
  
"No!" came Erwin's voice from the hearth. "You can't go, Albus! I could never live with myself knowing I sent you down there to the Death Eaters. Our whole world depends on you for too much to risk it. The Ministry will be all over this, all over you. Please," he begged.  
  
"I'll send Hagrid," he announced after quick contemplation. "I'm fairly certain the present danger has subsided, but I'll place protective charms on him. One can never be too careful, especially in these times." These times...but what is happening? What times are we even in? "Thank you for informing me, and understand that you may not be the messenger of solely grim news. Oh, and Erwin," he added. "Don't you go down there alone. The Potters..." His voice trailed off as immense sadness overwhelmed him from the inside out. Was this fate, an inevitable final act for young and promising life?  
  
Albus bid a solemn farewell to Erwin amidst the sparks and went to the window. Gathering his thoughts with the drawing of his wand, he glimpsed Rubeus Hagrid's humble cabin in his mind's eye and sent a single smoky bird to the half-giant's home.  
  
Minutes passed as Dumbledore paced his quiet office. He didn't tend to pace, preferring contemplation behind a desk filled with mysterious gadgets, however, the nefarious reign of Lord Voldemort induced this practice far more often than Albus would care to admit.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore!" came Hagrid's booming voice from the doorway. "I was goin' ter change me clothes, yeh know, bu' I didn' fancy ter keep yeh waitin'." Hagrid did appear to have dressed in a hurry. He had donned a pair of well-worn dark pants and a heavy moleskin overcoat in appropriate fashion for the chilly night. Albus bemusedly noted that, in his haste, Hagrid's tent-like jacket was opened wide to reveal a pink striped pajama top bursting at its buttons. Hagrid followed Dumbledore's gaze and gave an embarrassed sort of smile, but made no comment. "Yes, sir?" "I have been advised that the Potters have fallen victim to a fatal attack by Lord Voldemort." Hagrid noticeably winced, eyes widening in shock at the same time. While he rubbed plate-sized hands through a wiry beard, the Headmaster continued to brief the man too large for the chair beside him. "Curiously, he has disappeared from my Foe Glass, leading me to believe that something very peculiar happened in Godric's Hollow tonight."  
  
"Professor Dumbledore? D'yeh mean he- You-Know-Who- is gone?"  
  
"It means, Hagrid, that something very unexpected occurred after the Potters' whereabouts were revealed by their Secret Keeper."  
  
"Who was it, sir? When I get me hands on him-" he was silenced by the look on Dumbledore's face. His piercing eyes refused to give a hint of an answer. Evading the question, he continued on.  
  
"What befell the Potters, I cannot tell you, for I myself do not know the truth. What I do know is that I need a messenger to go and account for their bodies. In the rare event that someone has miraculously survived, I need you to bring him or her to me at once. Do not stop along the way; do not speak to anyone besides Erwin Dyer. You may Floo to Erwin's sitting room and go to the remains of the house. Take Erwin with you if need be. I presume that you have no qualms about performing such a task?" His pale blue eyes searched Hagrid's black ones.  
  
"No, Professor, it's an honor. I'll do yeh right, jus' give me a chance." Hagrid vaguely wondered why the Headmaster had the slightest doubt that not everyone had perished, but would not question this great wizard's requests.  
  
"Very well. I will place a few protective charms on you to stave off as many dangers as possible. However, if something feels wrong to you, act upon your instinct. Do not risk your own life on this mission."  
  
"Dumbledore, don' worry, I'll make yeh proud." His chest, already tight with grief, heaved with pride. The elderly wizard raised his wand, and a shimmering gold mist enveloped Hagrid in its warmth. Hagrid thumped towards the fireplace and threw a pinch of sparkling Floo powder into it. Dropping to his knees, he crawled within the oversized grate and curled up as small as possible for the towering man. "Erwin Dyer!" he cried with a thick brogue, and sped away in swirl of emerald flames.  
  
Dumbledore nodded to the fleeing shape of his dispatched gamekeeper. Glancing once more at the inexplicable gap in the Foe Glass, he left to wake Minerva.  
  
***** Sirius lay atop his sheets, fully dressed, tossing and turning. That sequence of restlessness had been repeated throughout the night. Why he could not enter that precious domain of sleep was a riddle to him. While slumber danced beyond Sirius's reach, something unwelcome refused to leave him alone in his bedroom. He knew something was very wrong.  
  
Ever since beginning Animagus transformations into a dog, Sirius had felt he'd received certain gifts exclusive to canines. For one thing, his senses had sharpened beyond the scope of your average wizard. He could predict exactly what would be served in the Great Hall half an hour before that given course began. Being a werewolf, Remus could foresee (or foresmell) an impending meal at least an hour in advance. Then again, Remus could not control his transformations as Sirius did, and Sirius didn't lose command of himself on nights the moon rose full.  
  
A dog's fabled sixth sense, however, seemed to possess Sirius without reliable intervals. One moment his sense of foreboding would ring true, and the next he'd be proven wrong, infuriating his tender ego.  
  
With a sigh, he rose from wrinkled black bed sheets hastily made on occasional mornings. His room was not much to remark on; an accommodating bed, simple wood floors, and mediocre chest of drawers were the only enhancement to the homely room. A scarred trunk, emblazoned with Sirius' initials in red lettering and gold accents, was stashed in the corner, providing many memories of mischievous nights in Gryffindor Tower. Sirius perched on the edge of his bed and cracked his knuckles, fixing his gaze on the gold-framed photograph upon his nightstand.  
  
All of his favorite people were in one timeless memory. He and James stood tall in the back row, arms thrown over each other's shoulders, identical grins permanently in place. Laughing at the spontaneity of the moment, surrounded by close friends, he wasn't quite sure there was anything more enjoyable. They were all just happy together. Sirius and James engaged in more arguments than any combination of their friends, adding to the likelihood of truly being brothers separated at birth and brought together by an unseen hand. Lily stood at James's other side, wrapped in a muscular arm, smiling demurely. Remus smiled at Sirius's right, and would cuff Sirius on his ear from time to time. Sirius's exact words escaped him, but the joust must have been good enough to deserve it. They always were.  
  
Peter stood opposite from Remus in the picture, on the viewer's right side. Standing next to Lily, he stood at a height approximate to her ears, which were red from the cold. They were all rosy cheeked, in fact. Pure white snow covered the grounds of Hogwarts, and had settled amid the crooks of barren trees. The inhabitants of this picture easily knew Sirius better than anyone else in the world, perhaps more than Sirius' real family. He chose to associate with them, which was more than he could say for his biological kind. They were a reflection of Sirius, and he could never allow them to be threatened. To let his friends down would be the worst kind of shame he could fathom.  
  
He felt ashamed to think he could doubt the integrity of one of his closest friends. Yet Remus was a werewolf, and they were Dark Creatures. He would certainly expect a Dark Lord to recruit Remus, especially considering the young wizard's widely acknowledged skills. Talent can be easily manipulated for good or for evil. Sirius's suspicions were raised quite often around Remus. Yes, he was a cherished member of Sirius' pack, but if he threatened the others he would not be tolerated. He knew there was a spy, and obvious logic pointed to Remus. Peter was too loyal and unaccomplished to be of any use to Voldemort. Of course, Sirius ruled James out, and he could vouch for himself. Remus was loyal to his friends, but he had a dark side, controlled by the light of the moon. Sirius understood his friend couldn't control it, but he also understood that Remus was still dangerous. It was better to be paranoid than wind up regretting your carelessness later.  
  
Breaking free from the stupor of past memories and present guilt, Sirius again felt the lurking feeling of misgiving creep into his body. He knew he had to check on Peter, the Potters' Secret Keeper, before he could attempt to sleep again. Sleeping hadn't been easy in ages. The days held as many horrors as the nights, and gave no shadow in which to seek refuge. Clasping his cloak, Sirius made his way to the shed in which he kept his enchanted motorcycle. It was time to take a nighttime ride to visit Peter.  
  
After a journey high above the rolling clouds, Sirius descended onto Peter's street. He jumped swiftly from the leather seat of his motorcycle and strode towards the door, poised to enter without knocking. Rolling his eyes at the rules of etiquette, he removed his hand from the knob and pressed the doorbell. A chime echoed through the house. "Come on," Sirius said impatiently, tapping his foot. The tinny song ceased, and with Sirius' finger began again. "Damn you, I know you don't have a girl in there, open up!" For the third time, the bouncing melody played, accompanied by the inharmonious rapping of Sirius' knuckles. His ears filled with the duet's frantic cacophony. "PETER!" Oh, please, please, let this be one of those times his instinct was horribly mistaken, for at this point it seemed even one lacking an alleged sixth sense would know something was wrong.  
  
Abandoning magic, Sirius presented a shoulder to the door and pushed his way through. Paint chips and dust mushroomed upwards and settled in his dark hair. "PETER?!" He tore through the quiet, deathly quiet, portentously quiet house. Had Sirius entered the house as Padfoot, his hackles would have stood on end, but he was a man, and he had goose bumps and a fearful look cemented on his face. Someone had hurt Peter, someone had harmed his kin. He would not allow them to do this. Hurt his friends, and you wounded Sirius as well. "PETER!" He screamed it over an over until his voice was hoarse, and he still rasped the name, racing through the house to find his friend. "What have you done to Peter?" came a husky voice much unlike his own. The house was untouched, save for the overturned furniture that was Sirius' own doing. He realized that he was standing amidst a pile of overturned laundry. Impatiently, he kicked at the black robe wrapped around his leg. "Peter, Peter, Peter, what is going on?" His sights fell upon the twisted black robe. Hands trembling, he removed it from the floor. A long black robe, long for his friend's short stature, quavered with Sirius' fear. An oversized hood was attached to the back of the robes. A hood large enough to shroud a face and obscure an identity. "Peter.what have you done?" ***** Blazing stupidity overtook an embattled Sirius. Thoughts raging with hatred towards Peter, himself, and with fear for James, Lily, and Harry, he tore down the halls to meet his motorcycle, which would carry him speedily into the night. He couldn't splinch himself at a time like this, although Sirius had the sinking feeling that a half, a whole, or an army of himself could not stave off what was going to happen, or what had happened already. No one survived once Lord Voldemort set him in his sights. Peter, in turn, would not survive what Sirius was prepared to do to him. Sirius finally left the clouds behind and rumbled to a halt. He stood quickly and braced himself for the sights awaiting him.  
  
He smelled acrid smoke mingled with chilly night air before he actually saw the destruction. James and Lily's home, the place they planned to raise fifteen-month-old Harry, his godson, should stand between those two towering trees. But.no.he was too late. Too late! Smoke curled from the ground and rose to the skies, rose from the dismantled form of a house turned on end, in a world turned on end. Running towards the house, tripping over a Transfiguration text, a copper pot, a mangled chair, he fell helplessly to his knees. He gasped for air, breaths unsteady and laced with sobs. Tears washed Sirius's dirt-streaked cheeks, and he shook his head in disbelieving denial. Hands shaking, he turned his face upwards to the blackened night sky, twinkling with smiling stars. Why are they smiling? They should be crying! He thought. Painful images closed in on him he squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to look reality in the face. Death was reality. Reality was that he had failed his pack. They were counting on him, and he failed. He surrendered them to a soulless hunter in the dark woods of life. Opening his eyes, Sirius' unsteady voice rang through the smoke filled night. He screamed the name of the one he had failed most of all. 


	2. For Every Action 02

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters in the Harry Potter series, with the exception of Erwin Dyer, an Original Character. No money is being made from this, which is unfortunate. Author's Notes: Thanks to Cedar, my beta, and Proserpina (FAP). Please be a responsible reader and review. Thanks to the reviewers from last chapter, all comments are appreciated.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Erwin Dyer sat facing the fireplace, a worn leather armchair cradling his stooped and elderly frame. Waiting. Erwin had grown accustomed to waiting for things; most recently, he'd waited to know why he had been chosen to watch out for the empty house on his right. He'd waited to know what it all meant, and waited as he helplessly watched a young mother die, her house in ruins. Now, he waited for an seven-foot man to destroy his fireplace.  
  
Erwin had never really known why Albus had suggested this house in Godric's Hollow. The omniscient wizard had approached Erwin during his retirement party. The Headmaster of Hogwarts had convinced him with well- thought-out reasons: It was a stable home in the wizarding part of the town, and would allow him relaxation after a hectic career at the Goblin Liaison office. Albus always seemed to be one step ahead of everyone, but tonight Erwin had learned the fallacy of that belief. His plan failed Erwin's neighbors, and stripped many of the ideal that Dumbledore could protect them from anything.  
  
The repetition of his thoughts formed a question-filled lullaby, and his eyelids grew heavy. Sleepless paranoia must have allowed his eyes to droop at the most inopportune moment, and the results had been disaterous. His guilty thoughts were jarred as the stone frame of his fireplace cracked and Hagrid fell violently to the floor. The smooth mantle was now cracked in multiple places. Hagrid turned to inspect the damage in his wake and gave Erwin a sheepish grin.  
  
"Oh, er, sorry 'bout that."  
  
Erwin muttered a quick "Reparo!" under his breath, waving his wand in a wide arc to accommodate the destruction.  
  
"See Hagrid? Easily mended." Unfortunately, there were some things magic could not repair. Any hints of a smile, sheepish or otherwise, had ceased to exist on either man's face. "Terrible times, Hagrid," soothed Erwin, patting the towering man's elbow in substitution for the shoulder he couldn't reach. A great sob erupted from within Hagrid's barrel chest.  
  
"Shall we be goin' ter see the Potters', then?" came a strangled cry. Hagrid knelt low to clear the threshold. Preparing to follow in the footsteps of a man Erwin could now only see from mid-torso and below, he heard the roaring rush of flames from a recently repaired fireplace.  
  
"Hagrid, don't wait for me, there's someone on Floo. Be careful!" Hagrid acknowledged the delay and struggled down narrow stairs sideways. Emerging from Erwin's front door, he began the walk that would lead to what he feared would be a hole in place of a home. He followed a path of his own discretion to a place where smoke twined with golden leaves under a silvery moon. Sighing with resignation, he ventured onward. Slowly, the remnants of the house came into view. Pieces if its frame were still intact, but almost all of the wood siding had been torn away, leaving the partially exposed skeleton half buried in rubble. Hagrid's broad shoulders shook unsteadily upon his discovery, but he had to continue for Professor Dumbledore. Tenderly, as much as one half-giant overcome with grief can, he picked his way through the charred remains of the Potters' home. He fervently hoped the charms protected him from falling debris as well as magic.  
  
The door had been blown off its hinges, although the frame was still intact. Not wanting to cause the house further damage, he opted to enter through a large hole in the wall. How Dumbledore thought any human could survive this destruction was a mystery in a night already thick with them. Stepping aside, he was taken aback at the condition of the house. Cooking utensils and dinnerware littered the entryway and the dining-room table jaggedly split through a wall. He was startled when he saw an entire area, albeit a very small area, almost untouched. A rocker sat in a far corner of the house underneath a framed picture of the family. The intensity of the explosion forced it onto its side, but neither item was singed enough to cause significant damage. Soon he found that this was not the only area of the house calmer than its surroundings.  
  
What appeared to be an upstairs bedroom had now settled precariously in the center of the Potters' living room. The decor was so violently intermixed that neither room was easy to distinguish from the other. The main indication of a bedroom was a crib, looking almost as if there hadn't been an explosion at all. Hagrid shuddered as he glimpsed a human foot. This was it. Time to account for the bodies.  
  
Moving gently towards the foot, Hagrid began to see its twin and the limbs that were connected. He could only see up to the knee from his vantage point, but they laid protectively close the crib. Knowing the face that would greet him, he moved closer, dodging the crib. There, illuminated by the silvery beams of a full moon, was Lily, green eyes glazed over in the wake of death. Pale skin, now rendered translucent, was surprisingly unmarred in the midst of such violence. Her red hair half covered a face contorted in fear, but something resilient remained. Before his hands began to shake with sadness, Hagrid gently closed her eyes. The lids were cold, stiffened by the chill of the night. Hagrid wanted to lie down and cry at that instant, but had to find James. He knew Lily wouldn't have survived an attack by Voldemort, for she was a Muggle-born, not even worthy of life to the Dark wizard. If Dumbledore sought survivors of this tragedy, it would surely be James. He was noble; he would fight to the end, if that was what it had come to. He searched the house with eyes fogged by tears, but couldn't find the young man. Maybe he got away, thought Hagrid. But, no, he couldn't have. James would never run if Lily and Harry remained.  
  
Hagrid hung his head and returned to the crib. He dreaded having to close the lids of a child, a baby not yet old enough to fend for himself. He closed his misty black eyes and prepared himself for the body of a baby, still in death. Grudgingly, he lowered his head and fully opened his eyes. A string of curses arrived on the back of Hagrid's tongue, but he choked them back. His awe was so profound that he dropped to his knees, still taking in his discovery with his mouth agape.  
  
Harry Potter was asleep on his back, and could have been dead were it not for his chest, which was steadily rising and falling. If Harry was breathing, he was alive! Hagrid reached down to feel beneath his callused hands the discernible sign of life. Harry stirred at Hagrid's touch, and opened striking green eyes, the same color and shape as the ones Hagrid had so recently seen frozen in death. Again, Hagrid's stomach plummeted as he focused on a point just above the boy's eyes, right in the center of his forehead.  
  
A lightning-bolt shaped laceration emanated red blood. Rusty stains on his tiny knuckles evidenced the pain it had caused the child. Hagrid could not understand why a wizard corrupt as Voldemort would kill Lily and James, yet let their son survive with a mysterious wound. Perhaps that question would be answered when they understood the absence of the great Dark wizard that had left countless babies dead in his path. Harry was surely lucky, but the sparing of his life could not have been an accident. Innocent children do not repel feared wizards. Harry reached upward to rub his wound and spoke.  
  
"Mama." Hagrid fell backwards in shock and scarcely avoided destroying a fragile wall. He couldn't bear to face the toddler, but came back into the little boy's view after his cries bore heavily on Hagrid's soul. He felt so helpless, unable and unwilling to communicate that Harry's mother couldn't hold him ever again, not that he could understand it.  
  
"Oh, Harry," he whispered. "We've all done yeh wrong tonight." Harry chewed on a balled fist and took in Hagrid's face. Knowing he had to return Harry even if unable to find James, he leaned into the crib and easily lifted the baby. Harry made a face as he touched Hagrid's coarse beard, but gave a faint giggle and tugged a handful of hair. Hagrid did not feel the pricks of pain. He cradled Harry, such a light load, yet the most important one Hagrid remembered carrying.  
  
He prepared to exit the house, but paused as he heard maniacal shouts from just outside the weakened walls.  
  
"Who the bloody hell is there?"  
  
Hagrid couldn't fathom Erwin having such an uncontrolled reaction, and could not identify the foreign voice's owner. The sound of human weight over fallen wood beams and plaster was coming from the doorway. Warily, Hagrid peered around the corner. Startled at the presence of a disheveled man within the entryway, he cursed, but the man was unaware of Hagrid's entrance.  
  
"James!" the new man cried. "James! What have I done?" He was lifting a heavy support beam off the ground, causing himself harm in the process. After much strain, he cleared the weight and began to shovel broken bits of wall away with his bloody hands. Finally, another man was uncovered. James had waited within the tomb of his own house before this man discovered him. The man knelt and cradled James' head in his own lap. "James, I'll never forgive myself. I've killed you, Lily, Harry- James, look what I've done to my own godson! We thought we were so clever, but look at what it's done!"  
  
It finally dawned on Hagrid that this man, sobbing inconsolably in the midst of such destruction, was none other than Sirius Black. His one- way conversation with James gave Hagrid the impression that he was admitting to giving the Potters' location away, as much as he, Hagrid, refused to believe it. "I'll never forgive myself, Prongs, not for as long as I live...." Sirius' last sentence was spoken with such softness that Hagrid wasn't quite certain he had heard it right. He told himself Prongs must have been a nickname James had earned in life, and was now called even in death.  
  
Hagrid wasn't quite sure what to do. His eyes again felt the sharp sting of tears at the dire situation. Such a large part of Hagrid wanted to believe that Sirius was innocent, that his sorrow was truly because his brother had perished with such thoughtlessness. These tears were true, and Hagrid felt the weight of hopeless lamentations tugging within his chest. And yet, a musing began to manifest his feelings of pity with increasing suspicion. Doubt tainted what had once been faith, and Hagrid detested the person that could allow a child to be orphaned.  
  
Narrowing his eyes, he took a step towards the oblivious Sirius and held Harry tighter. Hagrid was about to speak when Harry did so first. "Paffoo," he cried, flailing his arms. Sirius looked up with a start. Hagrid saw that his eyes were inflamed and bloodshot from his long cry, and with those eyes he gazed up at Harry with pity. Sirius opened his mouth to speak but couldn't, jaw flapping as he took in the open wound on his godson's forehead. Taking great care, he lowered the cold body of James Potter to the floor and labored over debris to reach the duo.  
  
For the first time that night Sirius acknowledged Hagrid, yet only with a glance. When he spoke to the man, he did so with his eyes trained on Harry.  
  
"Hagrid, you must give him to me. He's my godson, James and Lily expect..." he paused to realize his flaw in tense, "expected me to take care of him if something happened. Lily, she- she didn't make it, did she?" he asked, knowing Hagrid's answer. Hagrid shook his head with a defeated sigh. "Then it is my duty to take Harry now." Sirius reached up take Harry, but Hagrid pulled away, refusing to surrender his charge.  
  
"Hagrid, this isn't for you to decide! You can't take Harry, it's my job. I have to take care of him! I've done enough tonight, I'm not about to give my godson up to you, you're not even a wizard!" Sirius' words were pleading, and his disrespect toward Hagrid very thinly masked his anger and loss.  
  
Hagrid winced at the insult and began to open a dam of tears, but replaced his pain with anger. "Professor Dumbledore told me ter find the survivors, Sirius Black. I'm bringin' this lad back ter him, and yeh ain't goin' ter stop me!" Now both men were red-faced and fully prepared to fight if it wasn't for the presence of Harry. He pacified the situation just enough to prevent physical harm to either man. "Professor Dumbledore said not to talk ter no one, and that means you. Even if I was to give yeh Harry, yeh seem right guilty to me. If yer the one that did this, I'll-"  
  
"Hagrid, how could I have done this?" Sirius's arms waved wildly around above his head, indicating the devastation. "He was my best friend, Hagrid, and Lily was practically a sister! You think I did this?"  
  
"I heard what yeh said before, 'bout this bein' yer fault. How else d'yeh want to explain this?"  
  
"Hagrid, you're being unreasonable. I have no other choice, but I'm not sorry." He drew his wand. "Stupefy!" A thin red jet of light sped in Hagrid's direction, but surprisingly halted and rebounded in a mass of sparkling gold stars.  
  
"Bloody hell," they said in unison. Hagrid seemed particularly amazed at the reaction, eyes following the sparkling shower as it radiated around him. Sirius knew a chance when he saw one and lunged. 


	3. For Every Action 03

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, with the exception of Erwin Dyer, who is of my own creation, nor am I making any money off of them. Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter, and to Cedar, my beta. Tell me the truth in your reviews, I can take it! Really, any and all constructive criticism is appreciated.  
  
  
  
If Hagrid had expected anything from Sirius, this hadn't been it. In a mad rush, Sirius had leapt forward and snatched Harry from Hagrid's arms. Sirius knew deep within his consciousness that he couldn't take adequate care of Harry, especially after he failed to save Lily and James. At the same time, he felt that no one was left in the world that could be trusted, not even Dumbledore.  
  
Hagrid was so surprised by Sirius's actions that he failed to react in enough time to stop him. Once Sirius took Harry, he fled to his motorcycle at an unbelievable speed. Sirius was powered solely by adrenaline, as all other energy had depleted itself some time ago. He gasped for air and tore across the yard. Undeterred by the sharp pain in his chest, he cut wildly through the night air. The only controlled parts of his body were his arms. Surely, Harry was uncomfortably jostled by the frenzied movements, but Sirius tried to keep his upper body as still as possible.  
  
Sirius heard a vague duet of shouts; one deep voice came booming in his wake, and another less familiar voice echoed somewhere far to his left.  
  
Reason didn't matter. All that mattered was that Sirius reach his motorcycle with Harry still in his arms. The bike seemed so far away, moving along as Sirius pedaled swiftly onward. He felt the hot flash of magic rush past his ear, but paid it no avail. His destination was closer now. All of Sirius's reserves were drawn out during those final steps. At last, the flying motorcycle was near, and soon beneath Sirius and Harry, carrying them off into the night.  
  
Hagrid cursed, not so much at the departing figure of Sirius, but at himself. Erwin struck the ground with his cane, and Harry wailed. Sirius said nothing, for he truly did not know what he could possibly say.  
  
"Black!" Hagrid growled. The force of his exclamation caused a support beam to tremble and creak, bringing Erwin to his side. Nothing the elderly man said could assuage Hagrid. Erwin felt tremendous guilt to Dumbledore, but it paled compared to Hagrid's emotions. "I shouldn'ta let 'im get Harry. I failed, Professor Dumbledore, I might as well go live with the Muggles."  
  
Erwin knew Hagrid could not fit into a society of non-wizards, as he barely ranked with many wizards themselves, but he realized Hagrid could very well attempt this threat. The pain of letting down his revered Headmaster was tearing Hagrid apart. The towering man began to sob, and Erwin gently led him towards the house next door.  
  
*****  
  
Sirius had almost reached his back door when he remembered his motorcycle lying in the backyard. Too tired to go back, he uttered the Banishing Spell, sending it to the shed. He entered the house and shivered. Many windows had been left open, letting in a draft. Sirius didn't know much about babies, but could deduce that a chill was not good for them. After latching the windows with a spell, he climbed the stairs, glancing at Harry with every step. The boy had plugged his mouth with his thumb, and was deep in sleep. Sometime during the ride he had drifted off. Sirius didn't know which was worse, the pain of Harry's cries, or the silence without them.  
  
He retrieved an afghan from the bottom of his trunk and wrapped Harry in it. The gash across Harry's forehead was oozing now, and he carried him into the bathroom to search for a poultice amidst the sleeping potion laden shelves. Frowning at himself, he cleaned Harry's wound, dabbing gingerly at its obscure shape.  
  
He returned to his bedroom and searched for a place to let Harry sleep. The young bachelor had no crib, and decided to let his own arms be the bassinet for a night. Sirius could never sleep with the images swirling about his mind. He had to stay awake and protect his grandson.  
  
Although Sirius had sworn off slumber, his eyes drooped and deep breaths were punctuated with yawns. Slowly he sank into sleep, but it was not long before the silence was disturbed.  
  
He felt a hand on his shoulder, and screamed in spite of himself. He vaulted over the bed and turned his side to the intruder, trying to hide Harry as best he could. Sirius was not pacified when he saw Albus Dumbledore standing opposite himself  
  
"What the- Dumbledore?" What had started out as the beginning of an angry tirade dwindled into a confused question.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Black. As you obviously know about the Potters' fate, I'm sure you will understand why you need to give Harry to me now." Dumbledore's grandfatherly demeanor was absent. Sirius remembered gazing into familiar blue eyes devoid of a twinkle five years ago, when he had almost made his friend a murderer. Remus! He thought suddenly. All this time Sirius had suspected him, and pushed him away for no good reason. "Sirius?" Dumbledore prompted, seeing the distant look he had assumed.  
  
"Huh? I mean, no, no, you can't take him. I'm his godfather, I have to take care of him and you can't have him. No, Dumbledore, I'm sorry, but I can't." The Headmaster quizzically studied Sirius. He wasn't expecting an easy time getting Sirius to relinquish Harry, but right now Sirius was acting emotionally unstable. He was shaking despite the baby in his arms, and his eyes were flickering around the room, filled with paranoia.  
  
"The situation is beyond your control now. I'll acknowledge that you have rights under normal circumstances, but tonight has been far from normal. What you need to do right now is give me Harry. It's what's best for him."  
  
"What's best for him is to be with me! Fat lot of good you've done protecting him, his parents are dead!"  
  
Dumbledore did not change his expression, but he began to slowly move around the foot of the bed. Sirius's eyes were wide with fear as he backed into the corner.  
  
"Sirius, you know what you have to do. Harry will go to Hogwarts, he'll be safer there than anywhere else." Sirius tried to speak but was interrupted. "You can come, Mr. Black, but be prepared."  
  
"Be prepared for what?" His question went unanswered. Dumbledore touched his arm and the bedroom faded away.  
  
*****  
  
The hospital wing materialized in seconds. The room was dark, and only a few candles were lit. Madam Pomfrey's figure case long, swaying shadows across the walls as she paced.  
  
"Here we are, Sirius. I have no doubts you remember it." Indeed, the ward was no different than it had been a few short years ago. Madam Pomfrey strode towards the new arrivals, prompting Sirius to squeeze Harry so tight that he began to fuss.  
  
"For goodness sake, give me the boy!" She opened her arms to receive Harry, but Sirius pulled away. "Dumbledore, what is the meaning of this? He certainly can't care for another human being, look at the state of him!" Sirius's face was grimy and his cuts were becoming inflamed.  
  
"Sirius, I will ask you to give Harry to Madam Pomfrey, please." Sirius shook his head vigorously at this request.  
  
"Why is everybody trying to take Harry? His parents never gave you rights if-if something happened.." His lower lip trembled, reminding the matron of his eleven-year-old self, too proud to cry.  
  
Dumbledore met his eyes and tried to reassure him. Suspicions aside, Siriuswas still a former student, and a brilliant one at that.. Momentarily mesmerized, Sirius loosened his grip, and Madam Pomfrey whisked Harry away. She clucked critically upon exposing the gash. "What this boy needs is proper medical care," she stated. "Although," she added, frown softening, "this wasn't a terrible dressing." Sirius glanced from Dumbledore to Pomfrey. She stalked over to a private area and conjured more candles. Dumbledore followed and spoke in a low voice, unaware that Sirius had crept closer to him  
  
"Poppy, I'm taking Sirius to my office. Harry's in good hands, now. Might Sirius be able to stay the night?"  
  
"Professor, is that really safe? The ward's empty right now, but that doesn't mean children won't come down later."  
  
"I can place some binding spells on Sirius, confining him to a separate quarter." She contemplated his offer, and nodded. "Good night."  
  
During the brief exchange, Sirius had crept closer to the pair. He caught snatches of conversation, but was not calmed by the words "my office." He'd heard that phrase enough times that he was conditioned to freeze at its mention. Dumbledore was taking Harry to where Sirius couldn't protect him.  
  
"It's time to go, Sirius." Dumbledore approached his side and took his elbow. Sirius recoiled, but Dumbledore managed to maneuver him towards the door with minimal effort. Sirius was exhausted, and found it impossible to put up a fight. They exited the heavy doors as Sirius strained to peer around Dumbledore's shoulder for one last look at Harry.  
  
"Come," said Dumbledore.  
  
The corridors of Hogwarts were silent and dimly lit by sconces, though both men could find the way without their aid. Soon enough a gargoyle stood before them, even more garish in the eerie light. Dumbledore whispered the password, and they entered. Sirius's head reeled while he climbed the spiral stairs. All he wanted to do was sleep, and it didn't seem like that would happen for some time. Dumbledore motioned to a chair, which Sirius sat in reluctantly. His few composed thoughts urged him to relax, but instinct stiffened his back. Without a preamble, the Headmaster began to speak.  
  
"Many events have unfolded tonight that I cannot begin to piece together. Lily and James's deaths have affected me as well, but why do you think it is Harry survived?" Sirius opened his mouth but could not produce an answer. He merely shrugged and evaded eye contact. "You have no idea why Voldemort did not kill your godson?" When Sirius finally met his gaze, Dumbledore's eyes shifted to his Foe-Glass. A significant portion was empty.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius's tone was in no way confrontational, in fact, quite the opposite. Eyebrows raised, he tentatively leaned close to get a better look. It wasn't empty, dispelling his belief. A smoky essence swirled in the center of the glass, confusing Sirius even more.  
  
"I have another question." Sirius jumped, but leaned back quickly to hide his alarm. "Who, exactly, is so misguided that he revealed the Potters' secret?" A burning intensity filled his eyes.  
  
"Peter! He was the Secret-Keeper; it wasn't me! We thought it was so brilliant! See, Dumbledore, even you suspect me." He squirmed, feeling as though a teacher had caught him making trouble, but this situation was a thousand times graver.  
  
"Peter Pettigrew was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" Doubt crept into his voice.  
  
"Yes, that's what I'm telling you! How can you think I would ever do that? How? There's no goddamn reason for it, why, why did he do it?" Sirius rose from his chair and walked in tight circle, running his hands through his hair. Although Dumbledore studied his words for guilt, he detected nothing but sincerity, anger, and grief in Sirius's voice. If his suspicions were unjust, it would not be the first time that night he had been wrong. He surveyed Sirius, who was completely oblivious to the penetrating stare. Sirius was still pacing and muttering apologies.  
  
"It's late, and tomorrow will not be an easy day. Let me walk you back to the hospital wing. I believe Poppy has prepared a bed for you. I'm sorry about your loss, Sirius."  
  
Sirius nodded absentmindedly and followed Dumbledore down the stairs. The Headmaster left him at the door of the ward, and bade him goodnight. Careful to make little noise, he tiptoed to the window and took in the view of the grounds. Remus would be alone for tonight's transformation, but this was not a first as of late: James had a family, Sirius had mounting suspicions about Remus being the spy, and Peter was mysteriously busy. Now, Sirius realized that all those times Peter had claimed illness or overwork he was actively serving Voldemort. Remus was left with a belly clamoring for human flesh and the mind of a wolf. The world had turned upside-down, and he knew nothing about it in his lycanthropic state.  
  
The Whomping Willow shuddered in the breeze. Its branches swayed so gracefully one wouldn't know it attacked at the slightest of actions. Sirius was pelted with memories all beginning at its base, like the one where he nearly played a hand in murder. Now he felt the burden of responsibility for the deaths that did occur. He leaned farther out the window and glimpsed Hagrid's hut. A light was on. He wondered..  
  
"Oh no, you don't. That's not happening tonight. Mr. Black, you get in that bed right now. No, not that one, the one away from the window. Thank you." Her tone was one of exasperation, but sympathy softened its edges. Sirius rubbed his temple, which he had knocked against the stone window frame. Those edges weren't so smooth. "There's a sleeping potion on the table if you need it," she said as Sirius approached the bed. With misty eyes she watched him recline.  
  
"Goodnight, Mr. Black." 


	4. For Every Action 04

For Every Action 04  
  
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, nor am I making any money from them. A/N: Thank you *so* much to the reviewers from last chapter. E-mail me if you wanted to further discuss anything you've seen here.  
  
  
  
The pain in Sirius's head jerked him awake, and he knew the day would not improve. Clouds had rolled in sometime early that morning, obscuring the moon for its last visible hour. Now, the sun had risen, and it was one of those overcast days that was somehow painfully bright. He was unaccustomed to waking so early. Halloween morning he had slept until midday, but in twenty-four hours so much had changed. His body protested as he climbed out of bed. After roughly five hours of sleep, he was having difficulty mobilizing. Walking left did not seem to work. Neither did right. He was colliding with invisible walls, and was too much for his system to take.  
  
"Dumbledore!" That hadn't projected as well as he thought it would. He cleared his throat. "Professor Dumbledore!" His rasp wasn't getting him anywhere, and it was quickly becoming painful. In anger he slammed into the "wall" and rebounded off. Now sprawled across the bed, he felt hopeless. He was in an undignified position, too tired to move, and couldn't get to Harry. "Damn you, Dumbledore." Outside, he was relieved to hear the damned one's voice, hoping he would be let out of his invisible prison. However, he was in conversation with someone else, someone whose stern voice was unyielding to Dumbledore's demands.  
  
"I cannot believe you're permitting him to stay in the castle! What about security? You speak of some spy, who can you be certain it wasn't him? These days, anyone could be a spy, you can't tell anymore!"  
  
"Mr. Crouch, do you honestly believe that Sirius would remain on Hogwarts grounds if I had qualms that he was a Death Eater, or associated with them in any way? We think he's the Secret-Keeper because he was so close to the Potters, but we know for sure until we question him. I would neither place students nor faculty in harm's way, nor harbor one of Voldemort's minions. Surely, you understand that."  
  
"I surely understand that I am Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and you are obstructing my investigation."  
  
"Yes, that fact is quite clear to me. However, as Headmaster of this school, I would say there are a few rights left to me. Do you agree, Bartemius?  
  
"Be that as it may, you alerted me personally that He-Who-Must-Not-Be- Named is missing from your Foe-Glass, and I must act quickly. I will call in the Minister if you continue to be unreasonable!" His voice had risen in pitch and it was evident that he could feel his power slipping away.  
  
"If this is necessary-"  
  
"Yes, it is. Now if you'll excuse me." He ended his sentence abruptly and almost instantaneously a tall wizard pushed open the door. Bartemius Crouch stood in the doorway and surveyed Sirius. He moved purposefully towards him, wand in hand. Albus followed closely at his heels. He was about to warn Crouch about the Binding Charm when he stumbled backwards. He turned, furious, and jutted a finger at Sirius. "What is that about?  
  
"Bartemius, those are the precautionary measures I told you about. You'll see that they were effective in isolating Sirius to this one prescribed area." The twinkle was back in his eyes. This offered Sirius a small amount of reassurance, but he did not yet sigh in relief. Too many obstacles still cluttered the path. "I can lift them if you feel safe." He narrowed his eyes at Sirius. Under Crouch's gaze, he didn't feel nerves the same as when being surveyed by Dumbledore. In fact, he was starting to feel rather defiant. So many people had this confounded belief that Sirius was a criminal and it was provoking his temper.  
  
"You really think so, Dumbledore? You can lift the wards, but one false move on his part and I change the spell I'm using on him. I need to be able to reach him to administer the Veritaserum, anyway."  
  
"What! You can't let him do that, Dumbledore, why does everyone think I'm guilty? Can I at least see Harry?"  
  
"An interview under the influence of Veritaserum will be conducted to clear your name. You made several incriminating statements last night. We must first examine your completely truthful testimony before you can see Harry, I'm afraid."  
  
"Hagrid," Sirius grumbled. "Suppose I shouldn't have insulted him."  
  
"What was that? Right, on to business." Mr. Crouch looked none too excited about this business. "We will keep a record of this interview, Mr. Black. I'm sure you consent to going under Veritaserum, am I correct in that assumption?" Sirius was not at all happy, but nodded. "From this moment on everything will be recorded with the Recording Spell. We shall begin now.  
  
"Teneo hic indicium! I, Bartemius Crouch, Sr., will be administering Veritaserum to Sirius Black, alleged Secret-Keeper to James Potter and Lily Evans Potter, formerly of Godric's Hollow. The ultimate goal of this interrogation is to discover if Mr. Black is a Death Eater, or has affiliations with this organization. For Mr. Black's weight, he will ingest three drops of Veritaserum. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin, First Class, among other accolades, will stand as my witness to the events of this interview. I have measured 3 drops of Veritaserum, which Mr. Black will consume now."  
  
Crouch continued to keep his wand trained on Sirius, and Dumbledore handed Sirius the tiny beaker of Truth Potion. He examined its contents, and tipped back the small amount. It almost reminded Sirius of water, but with a vague metallic accent. Immediately Sirius's mind went blank. His recent emotions suddenly fizzled, and he was left with nothing.  
  
"Let's begin. For the record, what is your name?"  
  
"Sirius Black."  
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
"My ears are ringing."  
  
"Yes, that's a reaction to the Veritaserum. That will subside as the potion wears off. Please tell me how you came to be the Potters' Secret- Keeper."  
  
"I wasn't," he said . "James and I knew everyone would think I was the Secret Keeper, so we switched to Peter. We still acted like I was the Secret Keeper."  
  
"Please clarify what Peter it is that you speak of."  
  
"Peter Pettigrew."  
  
"Who is Peter Pettigrew?"  
  
"The Potter's Secret-Keeper. A traitor. A rat." Crouch glanced sideways at Dumbledore.  
  
"This isn't supposed to be opinions, Albus."  
  
"It's not opinions. If Sirius is saying he's a traitor, then that's what he believes to be true. Veritaserum does not enlighten you to the truths of the universe, it only unlocks what's known to the recipient."  
  
Crouch set his jaw. "Moving on. Mr. Black, how is Peter Pettigrew a traitor?"  
  
"He told Voldemort. About the Potters. He told the secret. He put them up for murder."  
  
"Who is Remus Lupin?"  
  
"My friend. I thought he was the spy, and I was wrong. It's because he's a-"  
  
"Mr. Crouch, may I ask a question?" Dumbledore asked hurriedly. Crouch looked at Dumbledore with apprehension, but motioned for him to speak. "Who told you to go to Godric's Hollow?"  
  
"No one. I didn't feel right. I went to Peter's house and he wasn't there. It didn't feel right. There was a black robe. I went there as fast as I could, but I was too late."  
  
"One last question, and you may continue with your train of thought, Mr. Crouch. What occurred between you and Mr. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts School, in Godric's Hollow?"  
  
"We argued. I said he wasn't a wizard. He said he thought I sounded like I killed James and Lily. Then, I tried to Stun him, but it didn't work. I grabbed Harry and ran to my motorcycle. We flew away."  
  
"What is your relationship to Harry Potter?" Mr. Crouch was asking the questions again.  
  
"He's my godson. I take care of him now that his parents are dead." Sirius's chest tightened, but he did not feel the need to cry nor experience any other emotion. Dumbledore looked at Sirius's glazed eyes and knew it was time to end.  
  
"Mr. Crouch, it is my opinion that we have heard all we need . Shall we end the interview?" He looked to Dumbledore, and then to Sirius.  
  
"Mr. Black, before we conclude, I must ask a standard question from the manufacturers of the potion, to make sure the Veritaserum has no ill effects. How do you feel?"  
  
"I'm sad."  
  
"I believe this concludes the interview. Thank you for consenting to the interrogation. We will use this information to further investigate the case. Finite Incantanum." He pocketed his wand. "I'll return to the Ministry and transcribe what was recorded. Thank you for allowing this. Do you have the counter-potion?" Dumbledore pulled it from the pocket of his robes.  
  
"Thank you. I've always found it funny how the truth is often what we least want to hear." The two men nodded politely to each other and Crouch exited the ward alone. "Here, Sirius, three drops will reverse the effects." Dumbledore conjured another flask and measured the correct amount. Sirius downed the liquid and began to turn red in the face. Quickly, his limbs began to shake so uncontrollably that the glass threatened to fly from his hands. His unbridled emotion continued to build, and within moments he burst into anguished sobs. Madam Pomfrey came rushing out of the private office to see the commotion.  
  
"Dumbledore, sedate him! He's going to hurt himself."  
  
"Poppy, he was just placed under Veritaserum. You know that under normal conditions the individual will feel elevated emotional levels, and Sirius is going through quite an ordeal. His feelings were bottled up while under its influence, and now he's releasing them. He should feel a little relief after this." Madam Pomfrey nodded, but closed a silencing curtain around his bed.  
  
"Blasted potion, look what it does to people. Excuse me, Professor, I need to check on someone else." She headed towards the back of the ward. Dumbledore waited patiently, peering inside the curtain from time to time. Finally, the cries subsided, and he emerged from the curtain.  
  
"Thank you, sir. I'm going to wash up, but can I see Harry afterwards?" He was still shaking.  
  
"Of course. I regret that you couldn't see him sooner." Sirius hurried away from Dumbledore, who departed in the opposite direction. The ward's only private room had been converted into a makeshift nursery. A bassinet was located centrally, and he moved towards it. Inside was a sleeping baby boy, who had been an orphan less than a day. Madam Pomfrey had done everything she could to heal his lightning bolt-shaped wound, but her efforts were fruitless. According to the matron, last night had been difficult for Harry. He'd woken her numerous times, wailing for his parents. Footsteps behind Dumbledore announced Sirius's arrival. Harry's godfather appeared apprehensive, but with Dumbledore's wordless encouragement he rushed to the crib.  
  
"Harry, you're safe, I'm so glad you're safe." Sirius scooped him into his arms and gently rocked. "May, er, not to be rude, but could Harry and I be alone for a minute?" Dumbledore smiled and stepped out of the room.  
  
"You know who you look like, right? Just like him. You'll be a testament, won't you? We're going to live together, Harry and Sirius, I can't even begin tell you all the adventures we'll have. Oh, God, you look just like him.." He brushed a lock of hair out of Harry's eyes. "That's quite the awful cut you've got there. It'll make you famous someday. You'll come here to Hogwarts and make everyone proud. Harry James Potter. You'll make us proud."  
  
Harry opened his eyes and looked at Sirius, the first familiar face he'd seen since very early that morning. He smiled and revealed several well-spaced teeth.  
  
"Would you like to meet Dumbledore now? I bet he'll still be Headmaster when you come here. He was, back when your father and I were at school." As Sirius reached the doorway, he felt a finger taken into Harry's chubby fist. That was the most reassuring gesture that he'd felt in a long time. When he emerged, Dumbledore was no longer there. "Well, Harry, what say we explore the ward? I don't think it's too early to begin your adventures."  
  
They traversed the rows of beds together, with Sirius giving a running commentary. "See that bed? James always seemed to end up there, the times he got a bad break from a Bludger. I'd stay in that one, right next to it, knocked out myself, or faking it. We'd come down here after the full moon to visit Remus. He was always too tired to talk, but we'd tell him everything that had happened in class. Over there is where I sent Snape once. Actually, it was more than once, not to boast. Avoid that git, Harry, unless you're out to give him a hard time."  
  
The sight of Dumbledore interrupted his nostalgia. "There he is. I'm sure he wanted to see you." Advancing on the Headmaster, Sirius saw that he was speaking to Madam Pomfrey.  
  
"How is he feeling?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"He's still sleeping. The wizards under Mr. Crouch went to bring him in for questioning and found him passed out. They're holding him here until he wakes up and is given the news. Luckily, they were too thick to figure out what he is." The professor and matron were standing outside a bed with the curtains drawn, but Madam Pomfrey pulled them aside for Dumbledore to see. Sleeping in the bed was Remus Lupin.  
  
His face was pale, and dark circles rimmed his eyes. Several rough gashes crisscrossed sunken cheeks. All alone, he was left to transform by himself, and was discovered by people who didn't even care about him, who were just on orders to return him to Hogwarts. He stirred, and tentatively opened an eye. Madam Pomfrey rushed towards him with a glass of water and ointment in her hands.  
  
"Oh, good morning, dear. Would you rather have pumpkin juice? Stay still, now, let me work on those cuts." Remus accepted the water, but didn't drink. She applied the ointment to his face, and he winced. "There, see, it's getting better already. Would you like a mirror?" He shook his head and closed his eyes again. "No, you can't go back to bed, I'm afraid. The Headmaster needs to talk to you." Interest flickered in his eyes, but he still said nothing.  
  
"Good morning, Remus. Did you need anything else before we begin? The house-elves can bring a nice breakfast spread if you'd like." He vehemently shook his head, looking a bit queasy. "All right, then. Let me know if you change your mind.  
  
  
  
"Now, some truly unfortunate events unfolded last night, of which you were not informed for obvious reasons. Did you know that Peter was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?"  
  
"No. Sirius was, wasn't he? Why would they switch?"  
  
"You, like many others including myself, believed Sirius to be the Secret-Keeper. Apparently, that was why Lily and James changed their minds, to keep the attention off Peter. Did you know about the information being passed to the other side?"  
  
"Yes, I knew about the spy. It's been rumored for months. Everyone thought it was me. So I've kept away these past few months.didn't want them to feel uncomfortable around me, there was nothing I could do to prove myself to them, I guess. Sure, I'd seen them, but not like it used to be. Sirius was the spy, then? What did he do?"  
  
"No, Remus, he was not the spy, and I know you weren't. It was Peter."  
  
"Peter? How was Peter the spy? No, he's too loyal to do that. Dumbledore, really, Peter? He.he didn't. He couldn't."  
  
"Maybe that was part of the appeal: a spy that would be completely undetected. The Potters made Peter the Secret Keeper, and he divulged their location. Last night, Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow."  
  
"No, no, it-it can't, be just couldn't.." Remus's voice trailed off, thick with unrestrained emotion. "He.I mean, did he kill them?" Sirius wanted to comfort his friend, as no one had been there to comfort him when he discovered the horrible truth, but he stayed in his hiding place.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Remus, but it's true. Voldemort killed Lily and James." Peeking out from his hiding place, Sirius could see Remus mouthing astonished denials; the look on his face put Sirius through the torture all over again. They sat in silence for a long time as Remus absorbed the news.  
  
"You said Lily and James. Did he kill Harry, too?" Remus's voice was quiet, yet it startled Sirius.  
  
"That is where the events of the evening get complicated. Miraculously, Harry survived." He paused as Remus gasped. "I'm currently investigating what occurred, but it appears that the Killing Curse rebounded off Harry and struck Voldemort. There was an explosion, and the house is in ruins. Very little was recovered. Voldemort has disappeared from my Foe-Glass, although I don't believe he's gone forever. He has undergone so many changes during his quest for immortality that some part of him has been preserved." Dumbledore went on to recap the previous night's events. "Sirius went under Veritaserum today to clear his name, and now Aurors are searching for Peter. I know this is a lot to take in, Remus. Would you like to be left alone?"  
  
"No, I just.I need a minute, but please stay." He rubbed his face, smearing the ointment, and rocked back and forth. Silent tears fell from his hazel eyes, and traced the scratches on his face. "Where is Harry?"  
  
"He's here, in this room. Sirius is with him, and if he would bring him over we could all see each other." Sirius was momentarily staggered, but emerged from behind the curtain. Dumbledore always knew. He carried Harry over to Remus's bed and observed his friend's startled expression.  
  
"Hello, Remus."  
  
"Sirius! Bring Harry here, he's all right then?" Remus jumped up from his bed and moved towards the duo. "What happened to his head?"  
  
"It's the mark of the curse that failed," said Dumbledore. "Madam Pomfrey employed all appropriate methods to heal it, but this is no ordinary wound. It is not like the ones Remus has upon his face. No one has ever survived the Killing Curse before. He's being called the Boy Who Lived."  
  
Remus traced its shape slightly above Harry's forehead, and the baby laughed at him. He stepped away from Harry and shuddered.  
  
"I can't look at him right now. It's too hard- I mean, I want to be there for him and I love him, but it's like looking at James, and I'll never do that again.." Remus placed a hand over his own forehead and closed his eyes. Sirius awkwardly rocked Harry while Dumbledore observed the situation.  
  
"Perhaps Madam Pomfrey can take Harry now, and you two could meet with me in my office," he suggested. Sirius was relieved by the break in the silence, and nodded quickly. He and Dumbledore turned and looked at Remus, who was leaning against the bed frame.  
  
"Yes, let's do that." He took drained the glass of water that the matron had given him earlier, and waited for Dumbledore to stand. They began to walk to the door, when Madam Pomfrey came from the converted nursery.  
  
"Poppy, could you take him? I need to discuss some things with Sirius and Remus alone."  
  
"Certainly, Dumbledore. I believe it's about time for a bottle."  
  
"Goodbye, Harry. We'll have your godfather back to you soon." 


	5. For Every Action 05

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, nor am I making any money off of this. Unfortunately, as it's the holiday season. A/N: I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get up. I uploaded it to Fiction Alley a few weeks ago, but I just kept forgetting to do so here. Thanks to all reviewers from past chapters and thanks in advance to those from this one. Please be a responsible reader and review!  
  
Dumbledore, Remus, and Sirius sped through the hallways. Classes were due to dismiss any minute, and braving the corridors was a task on any day. They entered Dumbledore's office just in time. From behind the doors, they could feel the rumbling as hundreds of students left their classes. The Headmaster led the way up the stairs and waited for his company to sit before he assumed his place.  
  
"I can't begin to fathom how you're feeling right now, and I extend you my deepest sympathies. I too am grieving, but if you ever need someone to talk to, you know where to find me. While the memory of your friends' deaths are still fresh, I need to discuss some things with you two."  
  
Sirius crossed his arms and Remus set his face in a cold expression.  
  
"Again, I can't imagine the intensity of your pain. I'm mourning them, but I know how very close you were. Yet there are issues we must deal with now, I'm afraid. It may not feel like it, but it's best to discuss this rather than put it off. Please, I won't take long."  
  
Sirius loosened his grip on his arms. Remus kept his guarded appearance but nodded.  
  
"The Potters' memorial will be held tomorrow, in the late afternoon. Portkeys have been scheduled to take us there, for I do not want either of you Apparating." Apparation was difficult even in the most focused of states, but the results of Apparating while under emotional stress were disastrous. "As I said earlier, Aurors and Hit Wizards are actively searching for Pettigrew, and when they catch him there will be a trial, and undoubtedly Azkaban. Unfortunately, it is very likely that you both will have to serve as witnesses. Now that you know the facts that face you, please allow me to introduce a theory."  
  
Sirius glanced to Remus, whose gaze was trained on Dumbledore.  
  
"I have exhausted every possible line of reason for Voldemort's disappearance, both likely and not-so-likely. Seeing Harry just a few minutes ago solidified an idea I've been entertaining since early this morning. It is my belief that Lily's love is what saved Harry." Sirius's brow furrowed.  
  
"How would that work? James loved Lily, but she still died."  
  
"Sirius, he knows that, he's Dumbledore. Could you just let him speak?" Remus rubbed his eyes, both out of fatigue and refusal to meet Sirius's pain-filled stare.  
  
"It's all right, Remus, I know you both must have questions. Yes, Sirius, James loved Lily deeply, but it is not simply love that can save one from the Killing Curse. Sacrificing your own life with complete altruistic desire can invoke a magic that is so primitive, yet close to impossible to summon. Taking all of this into account, it is my opinion that Lily sacrificed herself for Harry, and protected him with a love that repelled Voldemort's curse. When it rebounded, it destroyed his physical shell, but could not extinguish his soul, what little is left of it, altogether. The most feared wizard in years was defeated by a Muggle-born."  
  
"Harry's not immortal, now, is he?" Sirius questioned.  
  
"No. Lily's love shielded him during this incident, and her mark will remain in his blood forever, but he is still as mortal as you and I. Remus, do you have any questions?  
  
"Oh, no," he said, coloring slightly. "It's just.one person's love can save another from death. I'm in awe." He turned his head, studying the wall beside him.  
  
"Well, if there are no more questions, I don't believe I have much more to say at the moment. Shall I walk you back to the hospital wing?" Remus was in mid-nod when Sirius objected.  
  
"Actually, if it's not a problem, could Remus and I talk alone? Perhaps outside?" Remus raised an eyebrow but waited for Dumbledore's response. He looked mildly surprised, but agreed, asking them to arrive back in the hospital wing before lunchtime. They exited the office without Dumbledore, and Remus spoke as soon as the door swung closed.  
  
"What's all this about?"  
  
"I need to talk to you and I don't feel much like being moderated by our former Headmaster." Remus reluctantly followed him down corridors, stairs, and finally the Entrance Hall doors. "Where shall we go?"  
  
"Wherever you feel like, as it's you who needs to speak with me." They strolled towards the lake for some time before Sirius broke the silence.  
  
"What the hell is this about, Remus? It's just you and me now! We've lost two of our best friends to Voldemort's side in one day, although I suppose we'd lost Peter some time ago...we've switched our old roles- you the pacifist, I as the instigator." There was silence. "Remus?"  
  
"I'm not trying to instigate anything. Yes, we have lost friends, and I'm mourning them. I just found out today, remember?"  
  
"Sure, I remember! I was the one who found James!"  
  
"You found James?" Remus whispered. "That's just awful, Sirius, I'm so sorry.was it bad?"  
  
"The house was a mess: fire, roof blown off, the most unimaginable shit you've ever seen, and he's buried underneath it, this huge support beam right across his chest. He was staring - that's not the way I want to remember him! I want to see him laughing, playing Quidditch, holding Harry and kissing Lily, not like I found him. He was so cold, and I couldn't help him." Tears escaped him eyes and he brushed them away quickly. They continued walking, and after a while Remus tentatively patted Sirius's back.  
  
"It's all right. I know you wanted to help him. At least now you can raise Harry."  
  
"That's just it! How the hell am I supposed to take care of a baby? Sure, I've always played with him, but Lily and James were there to take him when he started to cry. Then last night everyone wanted to keep him from me. First, Hagrid refused to let me take him, and then Dumbledore came to my bloody flat and dragged me and Harry here. I'm not even sure I'll get custody of him! And if I do, what do I know about parenting?"  
  
Remus shrugged. "I could help you, you know. I mean, most of the time. I really don't think I'd trust myself around him in the days leading up to the full moon, but I can help at other times. Speaking of which, could we sit down? I'm dead tired."  
  
Sirius nodded and sat down right where he stood. "Thanks, Remus. Let's just get through tomorrow first, eh?" They sat in silence, when a question Sirius had been harboring for some time voiced itself.  
  
"Why'd you stay away? That's why I thought- I mean to say, er, you were ever around towards the end. What happened?" Remus gave a half-smile and shook him head.  
  
"My transformations were getting bad again. James felt obligated to stay with Lily, which I understood. He couldn't go cavorting around with a werewolf when he had a family. I didn't tend to have the company of you or Peter, so I was alone. I didn't feel comfortable around anyone in the week before the moon was full, and it was even getting to be too much while it was waxing just after first quarter. On top of that, I was being blackmailed- oh, it wasn't signed, but I knew whom it was from. 'Werewolf, give us the information we want or your little secret may land in the Daily Prophet,' malarkey like that. I thought it best to distance myself from the group so as to not put you all in danger. I knew you suspected me, so I pulled away."  
  
Sirius began to disagree, but Remus cut him off.  
  
"Don't lie to me, Sirius. I know that's what you thought, and I can't blame you for thinking that. My actions must have looked guilty, and I suspected you, too. I'm sorry." Remus studied Sirius, who looked sheepish.  
  
"Well, I found out about that. I overheard your conversation with Dumbledore."  
  
Remus did not seem pleased at that statement.  
  
"Look, I didn't mean to, I was giving Harry a tour and I heard you."  
  
Remus smirked. "A tour of the hospital wing?"  
  
"I was showing him the sights!" Sirius protested. "You know, where we visited you, James's old bed, how Snape had ended up in the ward.."  
  
He didn't continue with the last topic. They had never really discussed what happened the night Sirius had sent him to meet Remus in the Shrieking Shack. Though both men tried to act as though they were nonchalantly taking in their surroundings, neither made any strides toward lessening the awkwardness of their situation  
  
"Remus, I-"  
  
"No, it's all right. We'll just talk about this later, I guess."  
  
Remus had no desire to continue discussing what Sirius's motivations had been five years ago. He certainly wanted to know why, but couldn't take any more solemn confession. He allowed his thoughts to drift back to his Hogwarts days, steering them away from the almost fatal prank.  
  
In the beginning of their first year, Remus never imagined that he would make friends. He also had no knowledge of a 'Lord Voldemort,' and would have wracked his brain trying to recall who this fellow was. As his friendship with James, Sirius, and Peter solidified, the inquiries began. There was always a why or a who or a what waiting for Remus when he returned after the full moon. When he finally revealed the truth and the initial wariness wore off, he was surprised at how well they took it. He would have been suspicious were he not so overjoyed. The bonds formed with the secret had linked them for eternity. Sirius liked to say they simply knew too much about each other to sever the ties.  
  
Hogwarts was the perfect place to be sheltered from the outside world. One could cancel Daily Prophet subscriptions, focus on House Points or Quidditch, and follow the teachers' example of smiling through the darkness. Innocence and ignorance became interchangeable, or so most believed. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs devised their own way of avoiding reality. They would not act innocent; instead, break as many rules as possible while pretending not to have seen the headlines. Their families sent them care packages of half-truths, but they knew better. Towards the end of their time at Hogwarts, the groups' prankster façade masked late night discussions in their dormitories. Hushed whispers replaced the sounds of slumber, and fed the fire of their act. If the others wanted laughter, then they would have it. Attention shifted from Dumbledore's frequent meetings to how often Severus would find himself humiliated, the whole school craning their necks to see the most recent humiliation of a Slytherin.  
  
It was as safe as it was dangerous to ostracize a member of Slytherin house. Nearly the entire school, and even a number of teachers shunned them. You-Know-Who's house, they whispered. No one worthy can ever come from there. At the same time, these students were rumored to be the ones Voldemort selected personally, so who would willingly instigate a fight with one of them? The little game James and his friends played was more serious than any one cared to believe. Pranks became scathing, violent, and escalated to the events of a balmy May night under the full moon. After Snape's brush with death, open hostility cooled for about a week, though lengthy hateful glares remained. The atmosphere of the school versus the Slytherins made lions, badgers, and eagles feel safe, but laid a barrier of thorns the serpents dared not cross. While suspicion loomed outside, they took shelter in the danger. Time would tend to the macabre garden, but in neglect the briars flourished. So was the predicament today, and no one displayed the desire to uproot what was rotten in the system.  
  
Alienating what threatened them had worked in the short term, but now they were reaping the ill-sown crop. Remus and Sirius's former schoolmates turned away from the side that had never wanted them, and were welcomed by Slytherin's most infamous student. Because of Voldemort, their futures had been fixed by a whole society before their first day of classes began. Now both dark and light were in disarray, one without a leader, the other with a vanished nemesis. For Remus and Sirius, discussions of politics and hypothetical ponderings lost all meaning. They sat and watched the giant squid, inwardly comforting the other with his mere presence.  
  
"Moony?" Their thoughts washed away as the present time returned. "We have to be strong tomorrow, for Harry. Babies pick up on this sort of thing, don't they?"  
  
Remus picked at a scab but seemed to acknowledge Sirius's statement.  
  
"He already knows. You saw him before, he's sad. No matter what anyone does, it won't change the facts. He'll remember this forever. It's our job to let him know that he is still loved and that we're there for him. If we can do that, it won't change what's happened, but I guess we'll have done what James and Lily would have wanted." Silence ensued again, brought on by the rush of memories, but that was unavoidable. "Sirius, are you ready to go in?"  
  
They met each other's eyes and knew it was time to return. Walking back to the castle, they spoke few words. Commemorating their fallen friends, and cherishing what had been renewed, was enough to fill the emptiness. 


End file.
